Unspoken
by Ramica
Summary: Between April and Don there is many things that can not be said, no matter how they may feel, or what they might think or long for, neither dare to cross that line.


**UNSPOKEN**

**Rated: T**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own April, Don or Casey.

**DON:**

When I thought about it, I realized what a shame it was, that though we were close there would always be a rift, a chasm that separated us.

There is an attraction on both parts, even I can't deny that. My senses are so highly tuned due to the many years of training as a ninja, that there was little doubt about her feelings, those little looks, the gentle talk as we worked side by side trying to figure out some problem.

There were times, I almost believed she came up with or cooked up certain things just so we could have some stolen moments together. Secure in her apartment or in the back area of the lair where I worked on my many inventions. I longed for her, desired her and yet at the same time I knew it could never be. In spite of all we shared, all we had in common there was that chasm of what was right and wrong; what was meant or not.

_' Yet why was she brought into my life?' _I often wondered, or demanded of life. _' Just to remind me how alone I really am? That even though I have my brother and father, they can never quite understand me the way she does._'

I cared for my family. I would do anything for them, but they had never understood why my eyes lit up and I became so animated when talking about new technology I had read about, or how they would give me blank looks when I spoke in far too scientific manner that went well over their heads. But not her, my red haired goddess, she understood these things, she spoke my language and we would share little jokes that only the two of us really understood. Playing on words and definitions in an innocent way, that told me, among so many other things, that she was meant for me.

I didn't know if there was such a thing as soul mates, but if there was she had to be mine and meant just for me. But if that was true then why had fate seemed determined to make us both in such a way that what we both knew, and sensed to be true could never be.

Often in my dreams I had lost the things that set me apart from the rest of the world. Allowing me to tell her what I felt. In my dreams I was human and there was nothing to keep us apart, and those dreams were all I wanted of life. I would wake from those dreams with blankets tangled around my body, my chest heaving, a cry half of longing and half frustration escaping my mouth. As if even my dreams had to mock me by promising me the very thing I wanted just to tear it away. There were times I would be almost all too willing to give anything, do anything to make these dreams come true.

I was not even of the same species as the woman I loved. She was human, and as such she wasn't totally perfect and yet,for me those few things were easy to overlook or made her far more endearing. I was a mutated turtle, capable of speech, able to walk and think like many humans, and yet my looks showed that I was not even close to human. Due to my looks we had to hide away from society, keep to the shadows and I had never regretted that.

At least not until she came into my life.

When she came into my life; my world, I knew then that I could never give the one I loved what she needed most.

So I didn't speak of what I felt, and yet the sparks were undeniably there, the flames ready to burst up and consume me and there were times I was almost willing to throw caution to the wind. I longed to let myself be consumed by saying those things, by breaking the silence, with what we both _wanted_. Both of us _desired _to say but neither of us really wanted to break the ice, to say it- to be the first to say that, which both of us knew had to be left unsaid.

As if that was not the sweetest, most difficult, agonizing thing that any one being could go through there was also an additional wedge that kept my tongue still, and my throat unable to force these things out.

Funny, that I who was never at a loss for scientific words, or how I could explain the most difficult theory could not manage to say three of the littlest words ever spoken.

But there was another in her life, and she cared for him too, and he was human. True, this friend could not give her the intelligent conversation, the play of words, the knowledge of science and technology that ruled our world. But this friend could give her a normal life. He could give her a family, and something that I could never give- a sense of stability.

Much as it hurt. I had been raised on a code of honour, to know what was right and I'd been taught to sacrifice and to do the right thing.

I did my best to convince myself that this friend was right for her, though inside I wept and raged at the fact that I would lose her, that what should be mine would slip from my fingers like grains of sand trapped in a clenched fist. It was something I hid well, doing my best to stay out of their way. To not come between them.

Yet when alone with her, and a casual touch of her fingers brushed against my skin, it held an exquisite burning desire to let loose the dam and the flood of emotions, as well as, demand take them over. When her soft low voice spoke and all I could hear was the music in her tone, or how I thrilled, ever so secretly, every time she laughed or curled her lips into that knowing smile that caused my heart to beat hard and fast; During those times I could only wonder if perhaps I ought to say something; just to see who it was she cared for more.

Yes, I was jealous of my friend for all that I wished him well.

How could there not be jealousy, for we both loved the same woman but for different reasons and it was true she loved both of us.

Yet, it was because of my love for her, my longing to give her a _normal_ life that I refused to get in my friend's way. Instead I turned my head and a blind eye. For in my heart I knew that any flower would wilt and die in the world I was forced to live in. That it was too much to ask of any one being to sacrifice so much. In the end such restraints could end up destroying the best part of our relationship, the affair that wasn't. The affair that never would be.

An affair that existed so much in innocent touches, scientific jargon, side long knowing looks and in all those unspoken words.

I wondered how long those words would remain unsaid, trapped behind walls and dams of the mind. How long it would be before one of us slipped and spoke the unspeakable taboo, and who would be the first to break.

What would the reaction be if such words were allowed the freedom to spring from the tongue?

Acceptance and acknowledgement that the other felt that too. Or a glance the other way while speaking of a safer subject clearly pointing out that these things were best left unsaid, or an admonishment claiming mixed wires, and signals crossed.

There were times I wanted to live dangerously and say it just to see.

Perhaps to test the waters and know the chemical reaction between us was more then just one sided and just a figment of my own desires, and longing. I knew she felt the same but for any admission on her part that it was so, would mean so much. No treasure in the world could be worth that knowledge, nothing could make me happier.

Yet, due to our friendship, and all that I was. Due to my feelings, not to mention my sense of duty; the simple knowledge of what was right, I knew I could trap her by those words and I would not say it. No matter how much I may long to I must **never** speak of it. It must remain unspoken.

For me there would always be that chasm, the places one does not go, no matter how brave or fool hardy. No, matter what there was some things one just didn't, couldn't bring themselves to say, for though the consequences of saying it could give me more then I had ever hoped for, I knew as well it could rip away all that I held dear.

I would rather have her in my life as a friend then lose her all together by saying what should not be said.

**APRIL:**

When did it start and does it really matter, all I know is what I felt when we were together. The tension rising that we both ignored and looked away from while doing our best to act, speak and do only what was deemed proper and correct.

I was older, and he was younger, and yet age meant nothing. Not really, not when both of us shared so much in common. He was far more mature for his years, then many people ever become in all their lives. I tried so often to tell myself that it was a typical teenage crush, of one who allows his hormones to guide him and his choices. Yet, he was by no means a typical teen and besides there was too much emotion, on both sides.

Yes, I know he wasn't human. Yet he and his family seemed just as human as any of those that I mingled with. But there was something about all of them that seemed to set them just above the human standard that knowledge of what was just, the sense of honour and duty that I think if all humans could aspire to and achieve could make our world so much better.

When I first met them I may have felt shocked and repulsed to some extent, but then again I was all ready in shock from being chased by the robotic mousers that I had helped Baxter Stockman build to rid the city of the rodent infestation. At that time it was, for me, something akin to what Alice must have felt when going down the rabbit hole. The shock soon wore off and I could only look at them as not just the unique individuals they were, but as humans in their own right, and friends.

Of course the intelligence Don had, created almost an instant bond between us two. Though he often seemed a little shy, he came so alive. There was time he'd start to explain things in an over simplified manner, then duck his head and seem to blush muttering an apology. Telling me " I keep forgetting I don't have to do that around you."

He was sweet, endearing even from the first. There was the feeling the sense that we were meant to be together to be one.

Yet neither of us crossed that little line, neither of us, dared to make that first move towards the other, and neither of us spoke of what we were dying to say.

It was torture, to say things with my eyes, telling him how I loved him, to sit beside him working as we chatted, or allowed a gentle silence to surround us as we delved into one problem or another, knowing that the only awkwardness that ever came with silence was that which rested in the taboo area of our lives. The line we didn't dare cross and the things we didn't dare say.

I loved him, and I wanted to respect his choices, and his life. I knew by saying the unspeakable I could only embarrass him and thus make what we shared in the mean time awkward. I often wondered if I said those things if he would just withdraw totally from me, refusing to allow me even a tiny bit into his world. Or give me all the reasons and excuses for why it couldn't be and would never work out. Yes, I was afraid I'd lose him, and that seemed too much to bear.

I cared for all his family, and while most of them, including his father seemed to know of our feelings none of them really said much as if permitting us to decide for ourselves how to work this problem out. But nothing can ever be resolved while it sits and stagnates between you and the one you love. Yet speaking of it could cause damage far beyond the repairable stage. So, what choice did we have other then to carry on as we were neither of us daring to break that silence first.

Then there was Casey, he was not the intellectual Don was, there was no gentle shyness, and though he was an oaf, he had a good kind heart. He was not the sort of fellow I could ever see myself falling for or being with under normal circumstances, and yet after meeting each other, and our connection to the turtles, we often found ourselves together sharing the things we could not share with the rest of the outside world. I slowly began to see the other side of Casey, the one not immediately apparent to the rest of the world, and I could not deny I cared for him.

He was tall, strong, loyal, and he had a big heart. He was almost everything I wanted, and yet there was something missing, some things he could not give me.

Don however had all I think I could ever want or find in a partner, and yet there was that place we could not go, the things that must remain forever unsaid.

I wondered if I dared wait for that time just a few more years down the road when it would no longer be considered inappropriate for me to say these things to him, when by the laws of the country he could legally accept. Yet I doubted that even then I would be able to say it. For then I'd be dishonouring him and his choices to do what was right.

There were times I felt that I was nothing more then a rope pulled in a game of tug a war between Casey and Don. Everything pulled, stretched and dragged out of shape and proportion. Knowing if either of them dared to pop the question, it would be all to hard to say yes, knowing the other would be crushed. I didn't want to hurt either of them, and yet I knew it wasn't fair letting both of them go on like this.

But at the same time I enjoyed Don's company so, and the few stolen moments we had together when things seemed to click so well, come together so strongly told me that I could never say yes to Casey in any way and truly mean it while Don and I seemed trapped in this strange state of limbo.

Don had told me he wanted me to be happy. I didn't know if I was happy with my choices or if I could ever be truly happy with them when I think we both knew and realized our happiness was together.

Still, society would never condone it, and Don being who he was, could not ever feel that he had done right by giving in to those feelings that lured him.

I must confess there were times I tried to make him slip up just a little, and he'd give me this look that he totally understood but knew he could not go there. He would never do it, for it would compromise all he held dear. Then I would feel just a little bit lower for trying to catch him in such a way as to jeopardize our friendship and so much more. Yet there was a great deal of agony in allowing that elephant to sit in the room between us, while we pretended it didn't exist.

We knew it was there. We knew what we both felt. We knew what we both wanted and it was a matter of just saying a few simple words. Yet neither of us would go there.

I never felt that there could be so much pain in loving and wanting to be with someone. Yet if it hurt this much to be near him while shunning the subject that could not be spoken of, how much harder would it be to not be with him at all, to not have his companionship, or his endearing smile, his many technical jokes that none of his family could understand without a lengthy explanation.

I knew he was doing it for the right reasons. But he never asked me how I felt, what I would want. Instead he made the choice for me, and we both turned from the things we could not say. I had to let him decide for me.

I had to accept it, even though I wished to deny it and tear it down.

There were times I wanted to yell at him that it was time to give it up, that we had to speak of this before it totally destroyed us. How much longer could we go on denying what we felt, ignoring things while our connection, our bond grew stronger.

Yet to do that, would be such a disrespect to him, that I could never bring myself to say what I felt, what I knew.

It wasn't his age or his looks, that kept me sitting on the fence, unable or unwilling to jump to either side.

It was my love for him. I loved him enough to want to wait until he was ready to break the silence no matter how long it took. I wanted to respect him and not dishonour or embarrass him. I wanted to wait to give him every chance to say that which we refused to say.

But there was Casey too, and I only felt that I could not leave him dangling while my heart moved from one to the other. I could only wait for so long, I had a world a life to live. I wanted a family, does not every woman at some time in her life long to be married to the man she loves?

Casey might be a second choice, but he let me know where I stood, and as time went on, I didn't know how long I could continue to wait for Don to say that which lay unspoken between us.

This dilemma grows worse every day and I wonder even if by turning me away, if Don has not made some error. Or is it that I believe that I just want him too speak up and hopefully free us both as he finally says the unspeakable and accepts the taboo subject as a part of only being human.

We are all caught in this trap, an endless circle of doing what might feel to be right, agonizing over what should be said, yet no one daring to say that which must always remain unspoken.

The End.

**Author's Note:** This is based off something that came up on another TMNT site, Stealthy Stories.


End file.
